I find peace in the small fractions of time when I don't have to think. I just act. A calm washes over me where I am certain that I will be okay, that I am okay actually. I long for those small moments to become my reality.
These moments come to me in the form of the adrenalin rushes at the gym or running the cold winter streets of this stupid little town. The simplicity of the warm supportive arms of Matt where I have been finding myself more and more frequently paints a fake reality that in the moment seems just right, laughing and talking about nothing important for hours at a time, not a thought as to what happens in the morning when we both have to go back to our real lives. Then there are those times while teaching and helping the children who have become such a big part of my life, their small optimistic existence never ceases to bring me out of whatever funk I have found myself in. There is also the small amount of time where I simply curl up in my bed with a glass of wine and a good book. I block the big picture of my life and just savor the moment.
But reality check.
My house seems to be my anchor. Both the anchor keeping me safe from floating off to sea to potentially never be seen or heard from again, but also the weight dragging me along, preventing me from moving to calmer waters. Jim is the rough water. I am the one who stirred it up, but there is no calming it. It will tear us both apart just for the sake of staying together. If I could just leave him everything I would. He doesn't want it. Neither do I. It traps me.
This weekend was a series of small moments but when I woke up this morning I remembered that although our lives are made up of a series of small moments, you cannot escape the reality of your life.
No comments:
Post a Comment